


Bomb Sacrifice

by KateyLily



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bombs, Deviant CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Gen, Hostage Situation, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Sad Ending, Self-Sacrifice, Terrorists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 21:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20432621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateyLily/pseuds/KateyLily
Summary: Connor gets kidnapped and strapped to a bomb. Sixty has a plan to save him.





	Bomb Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> This was just an idea I had that wouldn’t leave me alone until I got it out of my head. Takes place post-game where Sixty is alive (either he was repaired or dragged himself out of the junkyard, either works so it’s up to you), deviates, and becomes brothers with Connor & Nines.
> 
> TW: Contains mentions of terrorists and bombs. If this is something that will upset you, don’t read!
> 
> (Also: sorry that they’re kinda ooc, I’m still trying to pinpoint their personalities o3o”)

“I‘ll save him,” Sixty suddenly announced, causing everyone in the room to pause their discussion and turn to look at him. Markus’ brow furrowed.

“How? He’s being held in the middle of their camp, and if we don’t meet their demands, they’ll blow him up!” Markus was obviously very stressed, not that anyone could blame him.

They had sent Connor in to try and negotiate with the terrorists, but they had taken him hostage instead, using another android as leverage. Connor had cooperated and she had been spared, but now he was their prisoner. It was times like these that Sixty really hated his selflessness.

There was no way New Jericho could give in. Markus was willing to do a lot for his friends, but they wanted the androids to go back to being slaves, and that wasn’t okay in his book. Unsurprisingly, every android agreed with him, and now the four leaders of Jericho plus Sixty and Hank were discussing ways to save Connor without forfeiting their freedom.

“I have a plan,” he answered simply.

“Lets hear it, then,” North chimed in. Sixty hesitated, jaw tight. Over the past few months he had grown closer to most of Connor’s friends—once they got over the fact that he had nearly ended the revolution, that is. Most androids understood he wasn’t deviant then, however, and forgave him.

He had hit it off with North almost immediately, them becoming best friends. If she heard his plan, there was no way she would let him go.

“I’ve already run through the probabilities. This plan has a 98% chance of working,” he said in lieu of an actual answer, hoping nobody would call him out on it.

“...Alright. I trust you,” Markus said eventually. After another moment, Josh and Simon both nodded in agreement. North pursed her lips, but gave in as well. Sixty was relieved; but there was still one more person he had to convince.

“And you, Hank? Are you alright with me going in to save him?” Sixty asked.

Hank looked up, mildly surprised at being addressed, but quickly agreed as well. Although their relationship had started off a little rocky, what with trying to kill each other during the revolution (and succeeding in Hank’s case), he trusted Sixty, and had even started to see him as another son.

Sixty was surprised that Hank trusted him so easily, although he tried not to let it show.

With approval granted, Sixty turned to leave, intending to execute his plan. He had an oddly determined yet sad look on his face as he walked towards the door.

Hank stopped. He knew that look, had seen it a few times too many out on the field when an officer was about to do something dangerous and knew it. Many of them hadn’t made it.

“Sixty.” He spoke suddenly, causing him to pause and turn around. Hank hesitated before continuing. “...You’re not coming back, are you?”

Sixty just smiled sadly. Hank’s heart clenched. “Goodbye, Hank. Thank you for everything.” Even though he hadn’t actually said it, it was quite obviously a “no.”

The other androids’ eyes widened at his answer, but before Hank or any of the others could stop him, he turned back around and stepped out, closing the door firmly behind him. Somehow, when the door slammed shut, it felt heavier than it should have. It felt final.

* * *

Connor was beginning to give into his negative thoughts. He was sitting alone in a dark room, with nothing but a single window positioned up high to let light in. He was tied to a chair, and the bomb was strapped around his waist.

A quiet thud outside caught his attention, dragging him away from his brooding. His eyes shone with hope. Was he going to be rescued? But, no, there was no way his friends would risk it. He deflated, slumping in his chair. The situation was too delicate for them to try to bust him out.

His train of thought was cut off when someone jumped down from the window. He froze, thinking it was one of the terrorists coming to hurt him (ignoring the fact that there was a door), but when he turned to his left to scan the newcomer his eyes widened in recognition.

“Sixty?!” He whisper-yelled, not daring to hope but desperately wanting it to be true.

“_Shhh_!” he snapped, LED flickering yellow as he shot a hurried glance to the locked door. “Do you _want_ me to get caught?” he asked rhetorically, and despite the circumstances, Connor found himself smiling. Yep, it was definitely Sixty.

“What are you doing here? It’s dangerous, you should be at New Jericho with the others!” Connor admonished. Why was he here? Connor was glad, yes, but he shouldn’t have come, he could get hurt...

“I’m here to save you, idiot,” he snapped, but despite his efforts his tone sounded more concerned than angry. “Of course we weren’t just going to _abandon_ you!”

What? They... they weren’t? Connor’s face must have showed his disbelief, because Sixty’s fake glare softened before he quickly changed the subject.

“Are you okay?”

“Other than the bomb strapped to my chest? I’m terrific,” Connor retorted sarcastically. Sixty snorted.

“Okay, let’s get you out of here,” he said, stepping closer.

Connor’s brow furrowed. “You can’t... if I’m untied, the bomb will go off.”

“Who said anything about untying you?” Sixty asked.

“The chair is bolted to the ground as well,” Connor informed him unhelpfully.

“And they say _I’m_ the pessimist,” Sixty muttered, rolling his eyes. “I know. I’m not talking about moving the chair either.” Connor blinked in confusion. What else would he be thinking about doing?

Before he could ponder the question, however, Sixty continued forward and grabbed Connor’s arm. He handed him a knife, Connor’s fingers instinctively curling around it, and then initiated a transfer. Connor flinched in shock, too stunned to even attempt to stop it.

“Wh-What? Why did you do that?” Connor demanded, distraught. It was disorienting to suddenly be looking at his old body, still strapped in the chair.

“Connor. Listen,” Sixty began, voice hard, yet there was a hint of thinly veiled sadness to it. “You have a family, and friends... Hank loves you like a son, Nines is your little brother, Markus and the gang like you, the officers at the DPD respect you...” he bit his lip, trailing off. Connor was stunned; Sixty usually didn’t “get all mushy,” as Hank would say, and Connor briefly registered that Sixty hadn’t included himself in the list of people who were important to Connor.

“Sixty... what are you saying?” Strangely, he found himself... worried? But why? It wasn’t like Sixty was going to do anything dangerous, right...?

“I’ll detonate the bomb in ten minutes; that should be enough time for you to climb out the window and get back to New Jericho,” he spoke seriously.

“_What_?!” Connor exclaimed, stunned. A timer for ten minutes appeared in the corner of his HUD, but he ignored it. “What about you?” Sixty just smiled sadly.

“Like I said, Connor... you have a family. You have people who care about you.” He hesitated, lowering his gaze again. “And I... don’t. People would miss you if you died. Nobody would miss me. And at least this way, I’ll be able to save you.”

Connor almost couldn’t believe his audio processors. Why would Sixty say something like that? Everyone loved him! Didn’t he know that? “Sixty, that’s not true! You’re part of our family too!” He protested.

Sixty lifted his gaze slowly, and Connor thought he saw his eyes get a little misty, but it could have just been a trick of the light. “Ugh, Connor, why are you making me get all sappy in my last moments...” he complained, averting his eyes once again, unaware of how Connor had flinched at the words “last moments.” Sixty breathed in deeply, composing himself. Another sad smile formed on his face. “It’s alright, Connor. You can stop pretending now.”

“What? Sixty, what are you—“ Sixty’s smile started to wobble.

“I know you hate me. It’s alright, I get it.” He shrugged. Connor was shocked.

“That’s not true!” He wanted to yell it, but he couldn’t risk alerting the guards, so he had to settle with just saying it slightly louder than he normally spoke.

“We both know it is.” No, it wasn’t! Why couldn’t he see that?

“You’re wrong. I love you, Sixty, we all do! You’re my brother too. What about your friends? What would North say if she heard you say that?”

Sixty clenched his teeth. “Why are you making this so difficult? Why can’t you just say you hate me?” His voice broke a little towards the end. Connor was crushed—it was obvious Sixty had been bottling this up for a while. How had he missed the way his brother felt? Was he that awful of a person?

“Why do you think we hate you? You’re part of the family too. It wouldn’t feel right without you,” Connor spoke gently. Sixty tensed, then deflated.

“I know you just pity me.” Connor opened his mouth to cut him off, but before he could get a word in, Sixty continued. His tone was flat and devoid of any anger or sadness, just a simple statement of fact. “You only took me in because you felt guilty, since you blamed yourself for me being shot. It’s not your fault, Connor. I’m an awful person, I know that, and I don’t deserve—“

Before Sixty could finish speaking, Connor leaned forward and hugged him.

“I love you, Sixty. We all do,” he whispered, but by the way Sixty had tensed and then hesitantly relaxed, Connor knew that he had heard him.

When he pulled away, Sixty was looking down and away in order to hide his face since his arms were still tied to the chair. Connor could still see the tears, however, but he had enough tact to not point it out. He was surprised; as far as he knew, Sixty had only cried once before, when he had first woken up after being shot.

How many times had he cried, all alone without anyone to comfort him? How many times had Connor missed it? Guilt churned deep in his biocomponents, thick and heavy.

After a few more moments of the silence, Sixty inhaled deeply and looked up, smiling faintly.

“Thank you, Connor. Really. You’ve been so nice to me. Goodbye.”

He gripped the knife tighter. He was likely intending to use it to cut the ropes and trigger the bomb. Connor wanted to stop him, but there was nothing he could do. Sixty turned to look at him one last time, smiling genuinely.

It was one of the very few times Connor had seen him truly happy.

Connor turned and climbed out of the window. The timer showed that he had nine minutes and thirty-four seconds to leave the base and get as far away as possible, preferably back to New Jericho.

He didn’t want to leave Sixty. But he knew he couldn’t save him, it just wasn’t possible. There was no way New Jericho could give into the terrorists’ demands, and he already knew firsthand that they weren’t willing to negotiate. He wanted to yell about how it wasn’t fair, wanted to scream and cry and stomp, but he had to stay quiet.

After sneaking around a few guards and scaling the fence, he was outside of the terrorist camp. He exhaled heavily, attempting to will away his anger, and began walking in the direction of New Jericho. The timer read seven minutes and fourteen seconds.

He kept walking.

The timer ticked down.

He was almost there.

The timer continued.

He stopped in front of New Jericho.

The timer reached five seconds.

As the tears fell, he heard the explosion in the distance. He dropped to the ground and landed on his knees. Connor typically didn’t cry very often, but he had just lost his brother, and he figured that was a perfectly valid reason.

As his vision blurred with tears, he thought he saw Hank and the others rushing out of the building and towards him, but he wasn’t sure. If he wanted to, he could probably watch the footage of his memory and verify it, but he saw no need to.

He closed his eyes and fell into stasis, exhausted.

**Author's Note:**

> I was considering a happy ending where Connor saves Sixty, but then I felt like writing angst. Sorry :(. Maybe later I’ll write another chapter that reveals he actually survived, who knows?


End file.
